


Forest's and Storms

by Dance_with_PixieDrag0ns



Category: Pathfinder: Kingmaker (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Original Character(s), Other Additional Tags to Be Added, series of short stories
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-13 15:41:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 6,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28530873
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dance_with_PixieDrag0ns/pseuds/Dance_with_PixieDrag0ns
Summary: A series of events of when two elven siblings find themselves with a barony. The older a druid with strong ties to the first world. The younger? a ranger with a temper as short as the storms she control. Suggestions of moments are welcome. will do these things mostly in the order of how things progress.
Relationships: The Baron/Nyrissa (Pathfinder: Kingmaker), Tristian (Pathfinder: Kingmaker)/Original Female Character(s)
Kudos: 2





	1. So it begins

The Screams, the cries of help echoing through the halls. A loud pounding on their door. It’s hard to tell what woke the siblings from their sleep, one in simple robes, his staff halfway across the room. The other rolled out of bed, grabbing the bow and quiver that was always at her side. An arrow was drawn and aimed at the door as it was kicked open. The thief looked at the two, expecting sleeping adventures, only to find the arrow lodged in his throat.

“Well, I didn’t expect this kind of party. Humans always did have a way of surprising me.” The Male laughed, grabbing his bag and staff.

“This is no laughing matter, Xirnus.” the female drone. Grabbing her own pack and rushing to put on her leather armor, dyed in a rich dark brown, almost black, and dark blues. 

At this time, they were greeted with the halfling that they met earlier that night. Panting, clutching her dagger, looking at the two with frantic eyes. Then her eyes move to the body. 

“Thank the gods. Some villains broke into the mansion. We need to help!” Xirnus and his sister look at each other.

“We need to check on our patron.” She said, already rushing past the bard down the hall toward the opposite room. She stopped at the doorway, already pale skin turning white. Xirnus looked over her sister’s shoulder and joked.

“Well… we can’t deny that their last moments may have been… blissful Alterius.” The elven ranger said nothing. The grip on her bow only tightened as she walked away.


	2. A visit in the Night

“Help me.” A voice, soft and delicate, echoes through the night, stirring the elven male from his slumber. As he looked around, green eyes taking in his surroundings. Keen elven senses were trying to make sense of the voice, of the unnatural fog that seems to appear out of nowhere. His sister stirred slightly from his movements but didn’t wake.

“Help me.. Can you hear me? Please.” In the darkness, He could make out the fair outline of a nymph. Shoulder’s sagging, her blue eyes were shining in contrast to her pale face. The Elf straightens as much as he could from his current position. He bows his head slightly, voice husky still from sleep. “A guardian rose, beautiful as the dew that shines in the dawn.”

A laugh was his reward, tender, honest, yet so weak. “ My beauty is a frail as my land, I’m afraid. So easily crushed. But I thank you.” Xirnus brows knit together, his hand offered for the ghostly apparition to sit beside him. 

“May I ask, what brings you to this nightly visit, fair nymph.” The ghostly image doesn’t move. Tears were now rolling down her cheeks. 

“I’ve been searching for someone who may free me of this curse laid on my forest. The swords under the stag lord’s command shed blood where flowers must bloom. And his cursed fog poisons the air where we once breathe easily.”

“The stag lord? I heard he was terrorizing this land for a while. But this.” He glances out the closest window. Sniffing the air, feeling the magic within the unnatural fog.” This fog feels like one of my kin’s work. Not the good kind either.”

“It shrouds, entangles, suffocates. I don’t know its cause, only that my power wanes because of it.” The nymph wailed. Xirnus quickly look to the other sleeping figures, letting out a sigh when they remain asleep. He senses more than felt as the image sat on the bed next to him. Head bent over. Out of habit, he reaches his arm around the image, only to find his arm falling through the illusion. “Thank you. It’s the gesture that counts.” The nymph sighs. Her hand waving. “I don’t know where this fog originates. Nor why nature continues to fuel it when it goes against anything.”

“Do you have an idea of where I may start my search?” Xirnus asked. 

“I sense... An old house deep within it. Its location is lost on me, but...” As she turns, Xernius had already pulled a map of the local area. “ Ah, you mortals are so clever. “ Her hand ghost the area where the river’s fork. “Here, find the echo, and maybe that will lead you to the source.”

“ A start.” Xirnus flashes a smile to the nymph.” You will not have to suffer much longer, my lady.” Another laugh, as sweet as a summer’s breeze to his ears. The nymph’s figure fades into the moonlight, a hand resting on his cheek as she whispers. “ I don’t believe in fate, but this surely can not be a coincidence.” 

“Neither can I, my lady.” Xirnus whispered his answer to empty air. 

“Brother, what in the gods are you going on about?” the only other elf in the party groans beside him. Her head lift’s slightly from the pillow, black hair a stormcloud around her head. Dark blue eyes are struggling to remain open. Xirnus smiles and pats the younger sister’s head. 

“Nothing dear Alterius, go back to sleep. I’ll tell you at dawn.”


	3. The temple of the Elk

_ “Go, my skylark. Watch the hound, get close to him. And wait for my call.” _

If only it were as simple as that. As simple as a fallen deva being expelled out of a portal, right into the jaws of a creature that doesn’t belong on this plane. It was attacking him as he tries desperately to defend himself. His scimitar did nothing but enrage the beast. Sparks flying as the blade was deflected by its bark-like hide, the mortal form forced upon him lacked the strength it once had under his dawnflower’s grace. One bite from it nearly took the arm that held the weapon off. A bat of its paw and he sent it against the wall of the ruin. His simple robes were stained red by his own blood. 

Tristian placed his hand on the ground, struggling to get back on his feet. The bear grunts, pawing the ground before rushing toward him. The only thing that he could do is close his eyes and pray to his goddess for protection.

Maybe it was Sarenrae's way of answering her former servant. Or Nyrisa’s cruel joke. A way to make his part all the more believable. When the blow didn’t come, and he opened his eyes, the treant was caught entangled in a net of grass and vines. The ruin’s wildlife rushed in to subdue the beast; he looked over it just in time to see the one who cast the spell. A tall, slender figure.his hood prevented Tristian to get a good look before a barbarian rushed in to quickly dispatch his attacker. He stood, holding his side to stanch the bleeding. 

His ‘rescuer’ was dressed, but the brown robes did little to hide the grace of his movements. His face sculpted to perfection, framed with honey brown hair. Green eyes matching the vibrant leaves around angled in such a way to give him a more wild beauty. He licks his lips, tasting his own blood.

“I swear, never have I been so glad to meet a stranger. Even with the power granted to me by my goddess, I nearly lost. You have my thanks.” The stranger tilts his head, studying Tristian curiosity. 

Finally, with a warm, almost musical voice, he asks. “Are you alright sir, it seems as if that treant gave you quite a fight.” 

_ An elf,  _ Tristian finally pieces together. So this is the new plaything of his mistress. He thought sadly. He forced a chuckle. “Kindness to strangers are in short supply these days.” he gives a small smile as he mutters a small healing spell. Making short work of the injuries. “Sarenrae’s priests are skilled in the healing arts. So you don’t have to worry about my well being.”

To this, the elf widened “ you are a little far from any bastion of your fate.” 

_ You have no idea. _ He forced a smile, waving his hand to the fog that seems to be thinning as he speaks. “ I was investigating the fog. I believe that you have already discovered it is magical in nature, yes?” The elf nods.

“Discovering an evil magic that isolated living creatures from the sun alarmed me in no small way. I was able to locate this place, but I was too presumptuous to think my fate alone is enough to dispel it.” The lie felt bitter on his tongue, yet he was forced to continue the charade. How long has he done this? Forced to lie, deceive, work for evil intentions. A year? A decade? How long ago was his divine grace stripped away from him? By the very nymph that holds him by the wings that he longs to stretch.

"Sir?" The elf's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. 

"Chief, just leave him already! We're burning daylight! And the bard ain't going to rescue herself!"

"Your right Amiri." The elf sighs, then offer him an apologetic smile." Well, then I fear this is where we must part ways, sir priest. The fog will clear up soon enough." He turns around. Tristian's face paled as the elf, and his partner walked down the stairs of the ruins. He dared not think of the punishment should he fail his mistress.

.

"Sir, wait!" He calls out, nearly tripping down the stairs after the pair. Every movement pains him as his injuries remind him of their presents." Allow me to pay you back."

The elf laughs at this." You don't have to pay me for saving your life, sir." 

"Tristian." He supplied. Then continue, trying to keep up with their long strides. "And I do. I may not have any worldly possessions, but perhaps my spells will be of more use to you?"

" Spells that could have saved you from the creature, perhaps? "

"I didn't prepare anything for beyond cleansing and healing this place." he lied. He didn’t have any chance to prepare anything at all. Once again, those green eyes studied him. Threatening to tear down every metal wall or mask he may put on. All he could do is hold it.

“You humans, so determine when you set your mind to something.”Like clear bells, he laughs. Suddenly he found the druid’s arm around him.

“Tell you what. I can’t exactly make use of your offer this time. We are kind of in a rush and only have enough supplies ourselves and the one we are chasing after.”

“Is this person in trouble?” The elf nods sadly. His companion growled.

“Lousy bard. Tike decided to take a leak in the bush and ended up being thrown over the slaver's shoulders.”

“Amiri.” The elf child. She huffs, adjusting the sword over her shoulder.

“You know it’s true. If she spent more time watching and less time scribbling in that dam book, she wouldn’t be in this situation.” The druid sighed, shaking his head.

“Anyway… like I said, we don’t exactly have the supplies for another member.However.” A smirk appears on his face. “I know that the other half of our company may need your skills than we do at the moment. Help them, and we can see about the future, yes?”

Tristian frowns. Not entirely sure if this is what Nyrissa meant to happen. It’s better than nothing. He tilts his head.

“I suppose. But how am I going to find this person?” The arm removes itself. The druid’s staff taps the ground twice. The trees shutter, and out of the wilds, a bright and vibrant bird appears before them. It perched itself on the staff, looking at him expectantly.

“This little one will lead you in the right direction. You’ll find that you won’t run into any trouble, hopefully.” the elf quips, lifting the staff to send the bird in the air. Before he turns to continue on his way, he said. 

“Oh, and do tell my dear sister, I’ll see her soon.”


	4. The trail of of a spy

To say that Alterius is frustrated is an understatement. She didn't want to spend the last few days chasing down a traitorous gnome. By the nine hells, she doesn’t even want to be here at all. So far from Kyonin, from everything she ever knew. 

“Come with me to the stolen lands. Xinrus said. The noble is paying well for a chance to see the world.” She growls, fingers moving quickly to secure the camouflage of this night’s camp, pulling tight on the current knot before moving to the next. Thinking of how they found the High Elf noble quite literally died bent over a desk the night before they were supposed to set out from Rostland. The night the manor set on fire, the night that they were nearly framed by the bastard she and Valarie are chasing now.

“And what would we do with the land anyway? We’re commoners. And he’s a druid, for fuck sake. This shouldn’t be something he even-” A sigh emerged from the fireplace.

“I swear, I thought you rangers were supposed to be quiet.” Her companion's comment made her roll her eyes. Tall, clad in heavy armor that gleams in the midday sun. And while the haircut doesn’t do the warrior justice, even Atlerius is willing to admit that her beauty will even rival that of her own kind. She finished the knot.

“Forgive me, lady Valerie… I’m just venting,” she mumbled.

“Complaints about matters that can’t be helped is a bit of a waste of energy if you ask me.” She paused, Then adds. “You know, growing up, we were taught if you have a problem with someone, either pray or shine your armor.” That at least got a smile at Alterius. she brushed a few Raven strains behind her ear.

“Well, your armor is looking a bit more luminous today. Hopefully not because of me.”

“Depends if you are planning on preaching how the end is upon us.” 

“I may be on my deathbed, but I can still hear you.” Harim called out from the tent. Both of the women rolled their eyes. Ignoring the dwarf cries. The elf was starting to believe that maybe she should have convinced the undead to join their cause if it wasn’t for the unsettling familiarity of her crimes. Another whine from within the tent and the thought of accidentally tripping into the tent supports crosses her mind. If only to get 5 minutes of quiet.

_ ”We need to make as many allies as possible. So please don’t try to kill anyone that could be useful.” _ Xirnus words choose that moment to echo in her mind. She stood up slowly, acting as if she moved to stretch. And it seems as if the lady knight has begun to take a rag and start working on the groves of her shield. How a dwarf complained this much over a very simple wound was beyond them.

Then, a rustle, a snap. The swaying of bushes from around the camp got both of them on their feet. The dwarf stopped his complaining long enough to grab the makeshift crutch and his flail. Atlerius pulled her arrow, dark blue eyes trained at what she hoped to be a bandit or a stray wolf. Something to give her an excuse to let out some of her frustrations.

The gods, it seems, had other ideas.

Stepping through the bush in tattered robes of Sarenrae stood a young man, barely in his twenties, if she had any guess. Platinum blond hair flows from his hood. His eyes were staring intently at a very colorful bird that dances before him. So focus on it that he didn’t see the log in front of him. he tripped, falling on his shoulder. The same bird that had him mesmerized had the gall to dance around her drawn arrow and bow. Peck her gently on the nose before landing on her head. She groans, putting the arrow back into her quiver.  _ “Great, just great.” _

“Everyone calm down.” she said, kneeling before him. “Had a nice trip getting here?” He looked up, gold eyes staring at her intently. She offered a hand and pulled him up.

“It was a bit strenuous. But I had no trouble.” Even his voice rang like bells in the wind. His eyes land on the bird that is making a nest of her hair. 

“ I bet.” She scans the man before him huffing. “If you managed to be led to us and not the trading post. You must have something of use to us, yes?” The man before her only nodded, Appearing to be shaken. Harrim, sadden by the fact that his end isn’t going to be provided tonight, moved to retreat back into the tent. Careful not to agitate his injuries.

“Uh, sir, dwarf. If you wish, I may know of a healing spell to-”

“Yes, please.” Alterius and Valrie's voices rang in unison. Cutting their new member off.


	5. Chapter 5

Another night. Another night spent in a cage. What is another night to the years she spent in one. Though her half-orc lover and companion rage against the companion. She just sits there quietly, biding her time. Waiting for the chance to break free of their magic proof cages. To have a taste of the freedom they never knew.

Their new companion in this cage frequently boasts that her friends are coming to get her, that their jailer will be sorry. Linzi wasn’t short of creative threats. And it took the half’ elf all she could to not laugh at the combination. But no, she waited, the halfling brought to the camp an air of change about her, the mere presents of their new companion gave her a feeling that their fortune is about to change for the better.

And she was glad to be counted right.

Not another night passed since the halfling was brought into their camp, the forest around them, for lack of a better word, change. The birds were silent, trees still. The clouds did nothing to help their jailer’s see. Then, a burst of light surrounds them like fireflies. The spell is clinging to everyone and everything. Vines began to slither from the ground. Their guards scream, trying to free themselves of the vines, only to find themselves even more entangled.

Then came the scream. A scream that made the halfling laugh. All three of them could only watch as a tall, muscular woman came charging from the forest, swing a sword twice her size without effort, cleaving one of their guards in half. Out of the shadows beside them, a hooded figure moved next to their cage. The clang of his staff caused the vines to part ways for him to pass. He looks at each of them, eyes locking on Linzi. A laugh echoing from the hood. 

“Linzi! I see you made some new friends.” The halfling rushed to the bars of their cage, smirking at her.

“See! I told you they would come.” Then she turned back to the hooded man. “Also, what kept you! I thought you’d be here like last night!” The man bowed, timing it to miss an arrow buzzing over where his head once was.

“Forgive me, but I had to take a detour. Some priest was having a showdown with a bear, in a temple no less!” He took a step sideways, moving his staff in one fluid motion. The wood made an audible crack as it made contact with another one of their jailer’s head. The movement caused the hood to fly off the man’s head, revealing long pointed ears just barely poking out of his dark brown mane. He looks back on them. Green eyes were glistening in the faerie fire.

Green eyes that looked to be a match to her own.

“Can all of you fight?” He asked. Octavia opened her mouth but found no words came out. Regongar cracks his knuckles, sparks dancing around his fingers. “Just let us loose.”

The elf flashes a grin toward them. With a tap of his staff on the ground, the vines climb and entwine themselves around the cages’ locks, the chains. With a loud crunch, they fell to the ground. The elf opens the door, smirking. “Well then, better get in there before Amiri kills them all.” 


	6. A pack of hounds

Of all the planes’ mysteries, Tristian is starting to believe that the situation before him is one of them. The siblings that he’ve been following these past few months are, again, in a heated debate. It wasn’t the first time he watched this. They did this before they raided the stag lords camp, In the chambers at Brevoy when Xinrus chose to be the one who took the title. When he was choosing the design of the capital. In the end, he selected a combination of elven and human architecture. “To bridge our two people together,” he said.

Yet, of all the things to spark this argument, choosing which rumor to check on first seemed to be one of the least worrisome problems to be fighting over.

“The rumor’s near the trading post seems to be a bit concerning” Xirnus placed his finger on the map. Staring intently at the borders of his newfound home. They spoke in common if only to accommodate the majority of those gathered in the halls.“It’s our main road to the trade partners to the north. And if nature is lashing out as they say…”

“Gold, trees, and pacts. That’s all you talk about as of late.” Alterius snapped. While the older brother is like a gentle breeze in the trees. Alterius is more like a sudden storm. Electric and wild as the lighting that coats her bow at will. She stabs a nearby point in the road. “You need a constant reminder that the  _ people  _ are the only thing that makes any of those things work.”

“I have not forgotten that..” Xirnus said calmly, causing her to snort.

“Please, if you had your way, this Barony will be filled with cute fey girls and a forest as wild as the first world.” This accusation caused Tristian to cough on his drink. So many secrets he must keep. So many lies that eat at him with each telling. They asked about where he came from, and all he can do is just drip feed a bit of truth in each telling. Claiming quite proudly that he was one of his goddess chosen, that she protects him from death.  _ A Lie. Once, it was true but no longer.  _ He thought bitterly.

“Perhaps. But my point still stands. The river and the road currently are our source of income, supplies, residence.” He uses the term lightly. “Block one, and we cut our potential growth in half until it’s resolved.”

“I think slow growth is relative compared to the new baron looking like a greedy elven ass.” She counter. She smirked, adding. “Well, I guess living up to the stereotype is more accurate.” 

A sigh emerged from Jhod. the elderly priest of Estil hobbled toward the war table, his staff clattering on the stone floor. “You two are squabbling like children. It’s a wonder that we are supposed to take your kind so seriously.” He huffed, dragging his finger between the two points and glances at the two of them. “Both are pressing matters, yes. And they do require a more personal touch. But keep in mind that you don’t need to be together to solve both issues.”

“What are you saying? Elder.” the tone came with a harsh underbite, held in check by a casual glance her way. The elder sighs and points to the two of them. “While officially the land and and paperwork recognized Xinrus as the ruler of the shriek hills. Alterius provides enough of a recognizable presence that should she claim it to be in the Baron’s will, no one will question it. And as I check, you have more than enough companions to make two full parties without straining anyone.”

The siblings look at each other, opposites in many ways. The way the forest eyes meet Ocean blue tells Tristian all he needs to know. Instead of one hound, there will soon be two.

“Well brother, how about it? Split the duties?”She offered.

“You know you won’t get any of the credit.” Alterius laughs at this. Not harsh, but it still has a bit of a bite to it. Like everything about her.

  
“Like I want any of it. You and your fey kissing mouth can take all the glory. I just want an excuse to escape this place.” She turns around, moving toward the door. Only stopping by the pillar he was leaning against. 

A smirk played upon her lips.“Expect to be officially summoned In a bit Choir boy. Something tells me I’m going to be stuck with Amiri, and I could use a healer.” She winks then exit the keep the last thing being visible was her stormy hair kissed by sunlight.


	7. A Camp in the night: Trolls

If there should be one constant, it is that trolls should fear fire. Fire was the one thing that stops them from cheating death with their stupid regeneration. From standing up after taking wounds that would topple anything else. Like a half quiver’s worth of lighting covered arrows to the face.

Needless to say, Alterius is not amused at this new threat. She growled, reaching in her bag for another one of their dwindling acid bombs and toss it toward the panting green creature. She was trying to aim for the chest. To spare what arrows she could for retrieval. She looks to her brother, panting as he places his staff on the ground. Asking for the forest to reclaim the body. The grass races up, roots and saplings began to grow from the troll’s form. Hungry for the nutrients promised to return to them. They both look around and together as one motion for the others to take their place.

It’s been a while since both of them have been in a group together. Both of them agreeing to tackle the various enemies of their young barony on their own. Only meeting up once in a while to plan the party composition and route they would take. At times only she would be the one sent off to make sure the kingdom doesn’t fall apart at the slightest threat. But for the most part, it was just fine. She likes going out, doing what she can to make sure this small piece of the world will not fall apart. Yes, there were times that a trail of corpses was left behind her. Earning her a verbal assault from their warden. But in the end, the roads always ends up just a bit safer.

With the group quickly falling into their routine of setting up camp, she, like usual, volunteers to take the first watch. Alterius took her time looking out in the forest. Fingers were moving to finish the arrows and replace the ones she lost. So focus on the surroundings that she nearly neglect to keep an eye out for those nearby.

“Lady Alterius.” her eyes flick up to see Tristian standing from the tent before her. Gold eyes were practically glowing in the faint light. At times she wondered if he bore some celestial blood in his veins, but with the lack of a halo, it was a hard theory to back up.

“Alterius just fine, Trys. Brother owns the land, not me.” She snorted, returning to her watch, finger adjusting the fletching before moving to the next. She then added. “Don’t you need to sleep?”

“I find myself… unable to settle down.” He said calmly, placing himself beside her. They sat there like that for a while, him with his holy book, her with her arrows. Together they listening to the wildlife for something amidst, then Tristian once again broke the silence.

“I’ve been meaning to thank you. For everything..” That got her attention. She snorts out a laugh.

“That’s painting it with a wide brush, choir boy.”

“Convincing your brother to let me stay. Letting me be his counselor. This.” He pats the light crossbow on his back. She recalled teaching him how to use it after him charging in like an idiot with his scimitar.

“Well, no offense to your goddess. But fate will only take you so far.” she huffs, then elbows his robe sleeves slightly, hinting at the scrawny arms beneath. “And you are no paladin.”

“Yes, that.” he laughs, though it seemed to have an underlying pain that was quickly concealed. 

“Still, you didn’t have to go through the trouble. But you did. And I was trying to think of a way to repay you. So..” He reached behind him. And from a pouch, she didn’t see he pulled out a quiver, filled with arrows with green fletching. Alongside it was a small pouch of yellow potions. Shimmering in the same manner of a restoration spell. Her eyebrow rose. She takes an arrow out. And on the tip, glowing faintly, was a green glyph.

“When we were in the city, I saw that they were selling this. Then I remember the circulating rumor of the trolls being immune to fire. I figure that this would be a good time as any to give this to you.” Alterius nods, chewing her lip in thought.

“Anway… I think I’m going to try and get some sleep. We do have a long journey ahead. So..” The fabric of his robes rustles as he stands. Moving quickly to his tent. She blinks then sighs.

“You know...You are allowed to get closer to us.” That got him to stop. 

  
“Excuse me?’ he said, clearly confused by the statement. 

“You travel with us, but you keep to yourself. You fight with us, eat with us. Offer advice. yet it always seems that you try to keep everyone here at arm's length.” she stated, glancing at the tents that surround the embers of the campfire. “You are allowed to form friendships outside the temple and your goddess.”

He stands there, comptilating at her words. Then quietly, he smiled and said. “I see… I’ll think about it.” he said. Then continue on his path and left her alone in the night. Alone with a thought of the very same cleric. Of how flustered checks highlighted his golden eyes. Her usually harden features soften at the stray memory, And she found herself smiling at the idea of how she wouldn’t mind seeing the choir boy blush more often.


	8. Chapter 8

It seems the longer Tistian spent in the company of these mortals, the more confused he gets. 

Standing among the town, watching their day to day lives, watching their interactions with one another. Some of it’s starting to grow familiar. The act of greeting a friend or a comrade of arms, for example, are easier to identify. Especially since he began to follow Alterius advice on letting the other get closer to an extent. He didn’t want to get too attached, considering what he may be forced to do soon.

He shook his head and instead continued to focus on his morning prayers. He was trying, once again, to reach his goddess’s ear. And once again, all he is met with was silence. He sighs, continuing the morning chant, letting his mind wander, thinking of all the connections each mortal has. Then, as if on a loop, he started to recall the interactions between parents, friends, lovers. Even the Fey couple they met on the journey back from the trolls. The way they interacted with each other. He knows it's called love, but it wasn’t a love he was familiar with. He finished his prayer and continued to contemplate the matter.

“Brooding doesn’t suit you, choir boy.” His eyes snapped open, taking in his surroundings. Despite the rest of the cities still in basic wooden buildings and dirt roads. The Elven duo was insistent on getting a proper garden up next to the keep. Quickly working with the builders to incorporate the public area in pure elven design while the rest remains a strange mix between the rulers’ heritage and the people they rule. Still, despite it all, he found himself at peace here. And has since come here to meditate since the garden’s completion.

He was surrounded by fragrant herbs and flowers that fill the air with their scent. Not overpowering but noticeable. Across from where he sat, a tree, its growth enhanced by the druid. And leaning against its trunk turned slightly away from him, sat the younger sibling. Her raven hair hung loose instead of its usual high tail. She was wearing a simple white tunic and trousers. He found out quickly despite being in the safety of home, Alterius was not a dress person. 

He chewed his lip, debating to move from the stone bench he currently sat on. Then decide against it.

“I was… thinking.”

“Yes, I can tell by that little wrinkle on your forehead.” She chuckles. But didn’t continue. Was she waiting for him to talk? Or was she enjoying the silence? It was still early, so there was no one around. Finally, he sighs.

“Do you remember that fey couple we met in the swamps?”

“The one where the satyr was too in love to leave the swamps?” she huffs.”Still trying to figure that one out.What about it?” He took a breath then started, trying to bring his scattered thoughts into words.

“I’m trying to understand it… All my life, I have only known one kind of love. The love for my goddess. Life without her is life without sunlight. I do not choose to love her or not. Love is in my nature.” He waited for a snarky comment from the ranger but was met with silence. Instead, it appears her eyes were closed, waiting.

“But here among other mo-” he stops himself. “Among others, I keep hearing about another kind of love. One that is given like some material possession, then to be taken away. It seems so short-lived. Unreliable? I can’t even find the words.”

“Ah. the topic of many poems, songs, and sappy romance novels.” She replies. Her hand waved in the air as if she is twirling an arrow. Alterius let out a hum. Then she stops, looking up at the tree.

“Knowing brother, he would tell you that with love, even the briefest moments can bring happiness. But I’m just calling bull on that.” 

“And what would you take on this be?” Tristian tilts his head.

“I don’t think I can describe it accurately.”

He felt his lips tug upward. He chuckled, somewhat interested in this sudden shyness. “It doesn’t hurt to try.”

Alterius pushes a strain of hair behind her ear. Contilpateding in thought, then said.” Love that you want to know about is kind of like this garden.” she said finally.

“Like the garden.” He said, slowly trying to wrap his mind around the thought. She nods.

“Yea. In the beginning, bare. With only a few seeds planted, a promise of something more. It’s different with each one. Sometimes it takes a lot of hard work to make something grow. Others, it grows effortlessly. At times it can be messy, plants growing as if they were out in the woods. Mixing with others that don’t exactly belong, killing Each other, competing for water, room, and light. It’s easy just to let it wither and die from neglect.” She waves her hand around her.

“But… with the right hands and working together, you get something like what we are sitting in now.” She waves her hand. “Something beautiful, unique, and only belongs to you. Something that you freely give yourself to, not something that you are forced to have.”

“Yet, how does anyone know whether it’s worth it?” He asks. She laughed, then said simply. 

“By following your heart. Your soul. If it’s true in its affections, then it’s worth fighting for.”

Tristan pressed his lips together. “Is it that simple?” Another laugh from the elf, the trees rustled as if to laugh along with her.

“Not really. Most of the time, it’s complex, messy, and leads to stupid decisions. Just ask my brother about all his failed love attempts when he gets back.”

“Speaking of… where is he?”

“Don’t know, the only thing he told me was that he was going to investigate some sort of chamber alone.” The half-smile fell from her face. She scoffs. Muttering. “Knowing him, he’s probably off to meet his new ‘love’. I can only hope that he doesn’t get himself killed.”

Tristian tilts his face forward. if only to use his hood to hide the blood draining from his face.” We can only hope.”


End file.
